


To Be Seen

by BelladonnaWyck, raiast



Series: Powerful Things [1]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Camboy Will Graham, Cock Warming, Coming In Pants, Daddy Dom Hannibal Lecter, Daddy Kink, Dark Will Graham, Dom/sub, First Kiss, First Time, Graphic Depiction of violence and murder, Hannibal Lecter is the Chesapeake Ripper, M/M, Masturbation, Murder Husbands, Rough Sex, Season 1 Alternate Universe, Season 2 Alternate Universe, Soft Hannibal, Submissive Will Graham, Will Graham Knows, sex near a corpse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2020-01-13
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:53:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21938533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BelladonnaWyck/pseuds/BelladonnaWyck, https://archiveofourown.org/users/raiast/pseuds/raiast
Summary: “Understand this if you understand nothing: it is a powerful thing to be seen.” - Akwaeke Emezi
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Series: Powerful Things [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1579726
Comments: 46
Kudos: 459





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> We ran a poll over on [Our Twitter](https://twitter.com/BellaRaiWrites) earlier this month and Camboy/Daddy kink was the very clear winner. Here is a holiday gift from us to you! Remaining chapters for part 1 coming in January 2020, part 2 and 3 coming sometime next year! Thanks, as always, for reading. We hope you enjoy and Happy Holidays to you and yours!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will is a camboy and Hannibal finds out...

“Mmm… _yes,_ ” Will whined as he slid a third finger into his barely stretched hole, arched his back and twisted his hand to sink even deeper as he panted and moaned. “Want you to fill me up, _Daddy_...”

His thighs, his flushed rim, the fingers that he worked in and out of himself vigorously, all shone with the slick of lubricant; the slippery sounds of his digits fucking his own hole were obscenely glorious. The muscles of Will’s forearm bulged as he flexed his fingers - presumably to stimulate his prostate, since the action had Will whimpering and jerking his hips higher yet.

“Oh, _fuck,_ I’m gonna - I’m _gonna_ -” Will’s voice grew strained and pitchy, the last word released on a gasping cry as every muscle seized up and then relaxed, his cock spasming with his release, painting the soft flesh of his stomach and chest. When the last of his come had spilled, Will gingerly removed his fingers with a hiss and fell lax, melting into the mattress beneath him with a hazy smile.

Hannibal’s own cock was straining against the trousers he’d refused to remove, his hips tensed as if prepared to thrust, though he was sure to remain seated stonily and stoically still as he watched his acquaintance bring himself to orgasm. He never allowed himself release as he watched Will’s videos - somehow it felt like crossing a line, even for Hannibal. His own pleasure came later, when he could adjourn to the privacy of his bed to close his eyes and replay every movement, every hitched breath, and wanton moan.

The stream ended as all of Will’s did, with the profiler basking in his pleasure until he could catch his breath enough to push himself to sitting and return his attention to his laptop, thanking his patrons for watching, coyly murmuring that he hoped they had a good time, and reminding them that they could further show their appreciation by leaving an extra tip or visiting his wish list if they sought to gift something a bit more personal.

Hannibal had viewed his gift list, once. It held a combination of a small collection of toys to use during his streams, as well as dog treats and toys. Because nothing that Will did could ever be entirely for his own benefit - it wasn’t in his nature.

Hannibal would be sure to dispel him of that unfortunate trait as soon as possible. Will should _always_ be the one celebrated, elevated. In his mind, he would eternally see the younger man on a pedestal, raised high above the common swine that comprised the rest of the world. Will, the fidgety empath, forever at odds with his own dark impulses. Will, Hannibal’s only equal.

Someone he, oddly, found himself wanting to take care of; to _provide_ for. Made all the more appealing a concept because Will didn’t _want_ him to do so. Hannibal had lived a long life and had seen many attempts by those less worthy to try and free him of his money, of his attention. None of them had ever found what they sought, some of them had only ever found their way to his dinner plate, but Will was a singular individual. Like nothing and no one Hannibal had ever known.

Another video began to auto-play, a sharp, keening cry the only sound that filtered through his speakers before he paused it, pushing himself away from his desk and placing his tablet down on its gleaming, wooden surface. 

He didn’t allow himself to rush, he poured himself a second glass of Malbec and took up residence in his favorite chair by the fireplace in his study. He wasn’t a brooding man, but a contemplative one, and he stared into the fire and thought of what circumstances had shaped a man like Will into the person he was outwardly, and the persona he wore in his videos. Hannibal imagined it was as multi-faceted a tale as the man himself, assumed part of the role Will played online was made up of a collection of countless others he’d encountered through his empathy. 

Hannibal finished his wine, considered pouring another but disregarded it in favor of retiring to his room. He drifted through his house on silent feet, a predator comfortable and content in their domain. He went about his nightly routine - the methodical ritual of stripping out of his suit, washing his face and rubbing his imported moisturizer around his eyes and mouth - and then slipped under the covers, let his eyes close and thought of Will. 

Will, spread out on Hannibal’s silken sheets as he was devoured by him, Hannibal’s tongue gliding along every inch of his body, sweat and come and blood covering his lips and teeth. 

He would lick Will’s nearly hairless rim - a sight he’d been graced with a few days prior from a live-streamed video - until the man was a sobbing, boneless mess beneath him. He’d take his cock into the back of his throat and consume his essence. Or perhaps he’d simply slide into the younger man’s body, hollowing out a place for himself and making him _his_. 

Hannibal’s hand found his cock where it ached, hard and heavy between his thighs. He ran his fingertips along its length, pulling on the foreskin and moving down to cradle his balls in his warm palm. He thought about Will touching him like this, wondered if the empath had actually experienced intimacy with another man or if he’d only found pleasure that way by his own hand, the filthy, incensing words that filled his streams merely a script.

Would he be shy, hesitant to touch Hannibal - another man - as he had only ever touched himself? Or would he fall to his knees and swallow Hannibal down, dip his spine and present himself for claiming as though the acts were second nature to him? Hannibal wanted him inexperienced, though he knew that it was unlikely it would be so; the thought of being the first man to give Will pleasure in such a way, the first to invade and conquer that piece of him, was incredibly appealing but ultimately, he had to admit, a fantasy.

He would settle for a happy medium, Hannibal decided. Will wary at first, as he always was, uncertain if he should cross that boundary with the psychiatrist he had come to view as his friend. But once he did, once Hannibal made it clear to him that his advances were not only welcome but encouraged, Will would find his footing with more confidence, hands searching, mouth devouring, body open and eager to accept Hannibal, to writhe together until they both found their release…

Hannibal’s hips stuttered up as he wrapped his hand around himself once more, pumping languidly; he had already leaked quite enough to ease the way, his palm circling his wet head and dragging the fluid down, making his motions slick. He closed his eyes and entered the newest wing of his memory palace, the space he had erected for Will when the profiler’s intriguing proclivities had come to light, and threw open the doors to his amphitheater, where the various symphonies and arias of Will’s breathy pleas were housed.

_Oh, fuck, yes that’s… Oh, Daddy, please, just like that…_

He wondered if Will had ever truly had a Daddy before, or if the act was a lingering habit from his earlier days of cam work; back when he was fresh into adulthood, all slim and hairless limbs, and young and pretty enough to render men Hannibal’s age completely helpless to him. His pace increased, rather quicker than he had intended, as he thought about filling that role for Will, showing him that it was more than capturing the attention of an older man, but also his devotion and guidance; if necessary, his discipline.

Oh, Will would _surely_ misbehave for him. The younger man was rude and brash, far enough removed from society that he felt no need nor desire to filter himself at all. One didn’t have to practice niceties when their only companions walked on all fours, after all. Hannibal thought about training Will as he himself had trained his own pack of dogs, rewarding good behavior with gifts and pleasure, and discouraging the default Will fell into of raising his hackles and warning everyone away.

_Fillin’ me so full - God - that’s good. Gonna come for you, Daddy -_

Hannibal’s muscles seized, stomach tensing and balls drawing tight until the dam broke and his release flooded forth, pulsing hot ecstasy across his own stomach and chest. He released himself and sank into his pleasure, into the soft, sweat-damp mattress beneath him. He considered what his name might sound like, falling from Will’s sweet lips in such a way, and his cock gave one more valiant twitch and dribbled the last of his seed.

He had discovered Will’s online persona nearly two months prior, had started seeking his own pleasure after watching Will achieve his not long after, but following that orgasm, something within him gave unexpectedly; the last line of thread to snap, the hook of Will’s lure, so long embedded within him, finally tugging him forth into action.

It was time for their dynamic to shift. Whether that entailed Hannibal revealing his knowledge of Will or using it more discreetly to manipulate the man closer, Hannibal had yet to decide. He formulated a plan of action for each option, and then three others, just to be safe. But one way or another, he would find Will in his bed, would finally be the one to coax those delicious moans and whimpers from the younger man’s throat. He would feel Will shake apart beneath him, around him, and hear his name cried, gasped, shouted, moaned.

He would have Will Graham, but he would have him whole. To start, something must be done about the cloying fevered sweetness that clung to Will’s burning mind. Hannibal made a mental note to ensure that his old colleague Sutcliffe was available for a last minute appointment.

He would have Will Graham. And once he got him, he would never let him go.

\---

Once Hannibal had made a decision about Will, he found his typically iron-clad self-control uncharacteristically tested. Will’s acrid fear of the unknown variables of his illness sat bitter on Hannibal’s tongue and stirred to life once more the undeniable urge to be the one to soothe him, to hold Will close and assure him that Hannibal would always care for and protect him. The desire coiled within him with an alarming insistence, sitting like an itch beneath the skin and stymied only by the overwhelming relief that Will found in finally having a diagnosis that wasn’t mental illness.

Still, Hannibal found himself pulled into a role that might have, as yet, been vaguely inappropriate given his quasi-familiarity with the bristly empath. He had to content himself with only visiting Will’s bedside during his treatment every _other_ day, despite feeling a curious and wholly unwelcome restlessness on the days that he knew Will laid in bed with no company. He over-compensated these _off days_ by taking it upon himself to bring Will meals on the days he did visit.

They continued on this way, first under the liminal space beneath the bright fluorescent lights of a sick bed, and then with frequent visits to Will’s home, Hannibal only just managing not to simply ask the young man to come to his own home so that he could provide more wholly for him. 

Over several long and trying months, Hannibal fed both Will’s belly and his mind, cultivating in him a growing hunger that, he hoped, would not be so easily quelled as his sickness had been.

\---

Hannibal often asked Will probing, personal questions that made him uncomfortable down to his core, but something about his demeanor today was setting off alarm bells.

“Are you still experiencing nightmares, Will? You have not mentioned their frequency or intensity since your encephalitis was treated, though I know you were plagued by night terrors even before your illness.” Hannibal didn’t look any different, but Will could sense something had changed. 

Will shook his head, a contemplative frown pulling his lips down at the corners. “They come less often and aren’t nearly as damn terrifying as they were before.” 

“Did you incorporate my suggestions of meditation and a pre-sleep routine to help settle you?” The alarm bells gained flashing lights and Will sat up straighter, his skin felt pulled taut and his pulse thickened in his veins, quickening to a rabbit thrum. 

The knowledge spilled down his spine like cold rainwater, seeped into his mind and hooked into him. Hannibal _knew_. Will didn’t know how, but the man had figured it out. 

“You know,” Will stated plainly, embarrassed and inexplicably aroused at the revelation. 

“A recent discovery,” Hannibal at least had the decency not to equivocate or deny it. 

“I see,” he wasn’t sure what to say, what to do. His hands fidgeted in his lap and his eyes darted around the room, landing everywhere except on the man in front of him.

“Have I made you uncomfortable, Will? Do you feel exposed knowing I have seen such an intimate side of you?” Hannibal couldn’t hide the smug tilt of his lips from Will. The man was often hard to read, Will’s empathy sliding off him like oil on water, but, in this moment, his pleasure was radiating off him in waves. 

“My, uh, my daddy was a hard man to know. Rarely happy and he took it out on anyone who sat still long enough,” Will began, clearing his throat. “At first, the shows were to make money for school. I knew he wouldn’t give me a dime to help with furthering my education, and I would have rather died than ask him for help anyway.” 

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me, Will. You’ll find no judgment here.” Hannibal interrupted, a hand reaching out to brush against Will’s knee.

Will swallowed thickly before continuing. “I kept it up through college, paid my bills. I stopped it for a while when I was on the force. But it helps me ground myself, keeps me in my own head. I don’t make much, but it’s worthwhile.” 

Hannibal nodded his understanding, squeezing Will’s knee briefly before pulling away. Will didn’t look too closely at the ache the absence of his touch left behind. "You exorcise the killers in your mind by pushing them away with physical pleasure and replace them with the fantasy of having someone to take care of you."

"Yeah." Will nodded simply, the truth of it exposed like a raw nerve. He craved the security, the promise of stability, wondered what those things could be like if experienced in person.

"Have you ever had a Daddy before?" Hannibal pressed on, face openly curious but still void of judgment, as he’d promised 

Will felt his cheeks flush with embarrassment and he shook his head. “Kissed a boy once my freshman year of college. Alcohol and inexperience made sure the drunken attempt at a handjob later that night wasn’t really pleasurable for either of us. Never tired it again after,” he gave a self-deprecating shrug and averted his gaze before continuing. 

“When I was younger and could have had men falling at my feet I wasn't interested. I saw the way they looked at me, my professors - hell, even some of my daddy’s closest friends. Now that it's too late, a part of me aches to know what it would be like. To depend on someone like that. To trust that I was always going to be taken care of. "

"Too late?" Hannibal tilted his head like a curious animal, his lips thinned out with seeming displeasure. 

Will let out a bitter huff of amusement. "I'm thirty-five years old, Hannibal. Men want small, pretty things they can overpower, nurture into something else. No one wants to play Daddy to a grown man that's already so set in his ways. I’m too stubborn. Too neurotic. Too surly."

"I do." Hannibal sounded so sincere it brought a thin film of water to Will’s eyes, his mind and body overwhelmed by the turns this conversation had taken from the start. The idea that Hannibal could _want_ him - in any capacity, but especially this one - felt too absurd to fathom.

All at once, Will wished fervently that he had abandoned his chair several minutes ago - before this conversation had begun - to wander around the room; wished that he had thought to provide himself with the safety of distance before he’d grown to need it. Standing now to saunter about the room, no matter how casual he forced the movements to appear, would seem far too much like fleeing.

Will swallowed down his disbelief and asked, “Why?”

It was a self-deprecating question, bordered uncomfortably close to fishing for compliments. Hannibal seemed to brush aside both possibilities and took the question in stride for what it was: pure, unadulterated curiosity. He shifted forward in his seat, palms pressed together and hanging loosely between his spread thighs.

“Because you deserve to have someone that would care for you in such a way,” Hannibal murmured; Will’s chest grew tight, that lump in his throat thickening further. “Because your mind is a marvel and you are singularly, devastatingly beautiful.” Will’s cheeks flamed at the praise, a thrill thrumming through him that was both heady and ill-advised. Hannibal’s gaze bore into him, the soft smile that curled his lips doing nothing to temper the unbridled _greed_ that burned in his eyes.

“Can you say that you are uninterested?”

The question was blunt, bold, and forced more blood still to surge to Will’s face, heat creeping into the tips of his ears and down his neck. His gaze fled to the side to rove over the desk that dominated the center of the room, unable to meet Hannibal’s eyes when he softly admitted, “No, I can’t say that. It felt nice,” Will admitted after a moment, “When you took care of me during my treatment. I...didn’t want it to stop.”

“It needn’t.”

Hannibal stood then, and Will’s stomach gave a mostly pleasant twist as the older man extended a hand out to him. He realized how clammy his own felt as Hannibal’s, warm and confident, wrapped around it and urged him to stand. His feet felt light, his mind hazy, as he immediately took a step closer to the doctor.

His breath caught in his chest at the utterly _fond_ expression on Hannibal’s face; again when he reached forward to brush some wayward curls from Will’s forehead.

“You speak as though there’s nothing left within you to nurture,” Hannibal murmured, shifting closer himself. Will could feel the heat of his body with each breath that expanded his chest. “But that’s not entirely true. There’s another consciousness within you, Will. One which I fervently desire to draw to the surface. To see unrestrained by social norms and a forced sense morality.”

His stomach sank at that, the flutter in his chest dying abruptly as though it had bashed itself against an insect zapper. He was dismayed to find that he was entirely disappointed by the revelation. “Oh,” he breathed; he fought the instinctual furrowing of his eyebrows, forced his mouth to retain a neutral line rather than turning down. “That’s all it is?” He swallowed down the bitter taste that filled his mouth. “You’re just looking for a protege.”

Because that was the short of it, wasn’t it? For every other attribute that Hannibal claimed made Will desirable, the only one he was truly interested in was his darkness; that thing that made them similar creatures, that thing that smiled and purred with delight every time Will stepped into the mind of a killer. That thing that he had desperately fought his entire life to hold at bay.

Hannibal, for his part, did an impressive job at not looking taken aback by Will’s accusation, though his surprise must have been immense enough that he still didn’t manage to mask it all. His calculating gaze studied Will for the span of a breath, and Will could see the moment that Hannibal decided denying it was futile, that Will had known much more than he’d let on for far longer than seemed possible. And just as he knew that, he knew what Hannibal’s next question would be, and decided to answer it prematurely.

“You’re not as subtle as you like to think you are. Or the majority of the people you talk to are absolute morons.” Will shrugged, huffing out an irritated scoff. “You hop into an ambulance and save a man’s life effortlessly after not seeing an operating room for, what, ten years? A serial killer ambushes you in your office and you walk away with only minor injuries while he lies dead on your floor. And I’m not supposed to see how well you fit the profile?”

Hannibal’s gaze turned calculating once more, a predatory shadow falling over his features that Will figured should probably terrify him. It only made his stomach twist once more, set his blood thrumming through his veins.

“The Ripper is more interesting roaming around,” Will informed him softly, before Hannibal could do something silly like decide to murder him. “I think I’d find him quite dull in captivity.”

The veil shifted, withered away to show a hunger even more fierce than before blazing within him. Hannibal shifted closer, slid a hand into Will’s curls and used his grasp there to tip his head up, to bring their mouths just inches apart.

“Exceptional boy,” he breathed, and Will’s insides quivered, grew warm until they melted like wax to pool uselessly in his gut. “Let me show you the care and stability you crave. Understand, dear Will, that I only wish for you to be yourself; I would accept no alternative. I have allowed innumerable opportunities for a protege to pass, like sand through a sieve, because what I desire is an equal. You alone are worthy of that title. Let me guide you.”

Will's breath came stuttered and too short as excitement and arousal pulsed through him. He nodded his head as much as Hannibal's grasp would allow.

"Yes, Daddy."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> If you enjoy our collaborative works you should follow us on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/BellaRaiWrites) and [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/bellaraiwrites) for all sorts of extra content and teasers!
> 
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> 
> 'Til next time! 💚💜 BellaRai


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Do not mistake my restraint for disinterest,” Hannibal soothed, and warmth pooled low in Will’s gut at the confirmation that he'd thought of him in that way - wanted him in that way. “My only goal is to care for you. If there is a way in which you feel your needs are not being met, you need only tell me.”_
> 
> _Will considered that as he waited for Hannibal’s mouth to cover his own - realized after a moment that the man had all but told him that wouldn’t happen until Will asked him for it. He was just working up the nerve to do so, to ask Hannibal to kiss him, touch him, fuck him good and thoroughly senseless right here on his desk, when Hannibal spoke again._
> 
> _“Is this the reason you’ve increased the frequency of your streams?”_

Will had never been so sexually frustrated in his entire life. He’d increased his shows from a handful of performances a week to nearly nightly occurrences so that he could expel some of the nervous energy that twisted and coiled low in his gut. 

He’d assumed Hannibal was sincere when he’d offered to be Will’s Daddy, but their relationship had been the absolute opposite of sexual. If anything, Hannibal had gotten softer around Will, his sharpest edges filed down enough that Will could get close without cutting himself, but he still only gave Will the most passing of touches, soft, gentle things to remind him he was there, brief brushes of their shoulders in a crowded room or sometimes a reassuring hand on his knee or low back. 

The number of Will’s streams seemed to directly correlate to how many times Hannibal invited him to dinners that ended in nothing but the same goodbye as always, Will saying he should get back to the dogs and Hannibal silently nodding his agreement before seeing Will to the door. No kiss goodbye. No embrace. Not even a single attempt to convince Will to stay.

Inevitably, Will would return home sexually frustrated and with a low-burning arousal in his stomach that couldn't be ignored and he’d stream. His patrons seemed to love the recent development, claiming he was _hungry for it,_ and _a desperate whore_. 

He imagined how Hannibal would frame it instead. He’d call Will a vision, beautiful in his desperation. He’d smile and soothe him even as he furthered Will’s arousal, his wanton need, with cruel, teasing touches. Will didn’t feel beautiful. He did, however, feel desperate. 

Which was probably what led to his tongue being a bit looser than usual the next time he saw Hannibal. It had been weeks of more of the same, more of their _routine_ , and Will was _done_.

“Hannibal, may I have a word?” Will was early, which to a man like Hannibal, was just as improper, just as _rude_ as being late. 

“Will. I wasn't expecting you-“ 

“Until 7, yes I’m aware. We need to talk,” Will interrupted, layering on further insolence, perhaps just to test how far he could push Hannibal’s regard for him before he broke. 

Hannibal looked at Will, assessing him, before gesturing for him to come inside. Will brushed past him, that electric spark thrumming along his pulse lines wherever Hannibal touched him. 

“Why don’t you have a seat, Will,” Hannibal’s words sounded like a suggestion, but Will could sense the underlying command just below the surface. 

He took the damn seat. 

Hannibal looked pleased as he turned from Will, opening the cabinet that contained his bourbon and whiskey collection, a bottle of Jameson always stored there now since it was Will’s preferred drink.

It’s what Hannibal poured for him now, passing it to Will before moving to close the cabinet and sit across from Will.

“What is troubling you, Will?” 

“Can you stop saying my name like that?” 

Hannibal inclined his head, at least taking enough mercy not to say it again.

“Like I’m a disappointment, just another patient that doesn’t meet expectations,” Will elaborated, looking down into his glass of whiskey before turning it back and downing the entire contents.

“You haven’t disappointed me, Will.” Will cringed at the continued use of his name. It felt distant. Lacked the intimacy of their conversation a few weeks prior when Will had called the man across from him _Daddy_ and thought it might mean something. When they’d talked of blood and of submission. When he’d felt safe. 

“If I’ve done something wrong, why won’t you tell me?” Will forced the words passed clenched teeth. He’d never been good at _asking_ for things. Another mark against his ability to be good for a Daddy. Another reason he would never be good enough.

“You’ve done no such thing, though I sense that perhaps I have misstepped here,” Hannibal settled in the chair across from Will, placing a gentle, warm palm on Will’s knee. “I thought you would come to me when you were ready to take things further than what I’ve already been doing.” 

“What you’ve been doing? You haven’t _done_ anything! That’s the damn problem!” Will’s chest felt tight, his lips dangerously loose as he stood from his chair and stalked over to the liquor cabinet, pouring himself another whiskey. This one he forced himself to sip more slowly, not wanting to be impaired for this conversation. 

When he turned to look at Hannibal again after several long minutes of silence, he saw the man looking almost perplexed. He decided maybe he should explain. “You’ve barely touched me. Haven’t asked anything of me. I feel like we’re going backwards in terms intimacy…” he trailed off, taking another sip from his glass to avoid eye contact.

“I see. You define belonging to someone as only physical. But Will, you’ve always been _mine_. The addition of me being your Daddy brings with it a new level of intimacy. Surely you don’t think I cook for others on a nearly nightly basis? Or that I offer to sit with their dogs while they are out of town? Or that I check after their well-being every morning and night?” Hannibal’s lips were pulled up in a slight smirk that gave Will a little hope.

And then it all came crashing down around him when he realized what the man was saying. Will was an _idiot_. He’d taken everything Hannibal had been doing for him for granted, not realizing it was one way the man showed his regard, his affection for Will. A way he could provide for him unobtrusively, because he knew Will well enough to know he didn’t want to be some kept boy. 

“Hannibal -” he started, stopped, tried again. “I’m so sorry. I should have realized -” he was becoming flustered, getting himself worked up. Countless processions of home-cooked, packaged meals that he’d been instructed to eat every morning and lunchtime, night after night of watching Hannibal dance around his kitchen, preparing warm, filling meals for them. All of the wake up calls, the good night texts. God, he was so fucking stupid. 

“Stop this, sweet boy. Don’t agitate yourself further about this. We are fine and you are forgiven.” Hannibal had moved so fast Will almost couldn’t keep up with the movement before he was boxed in against Hannibal’s desk, Hannibal’s arms on either side. The man leaned forward to kiss Will’s forehead, soothing away the furrow that had formed between his brows.

Will’s heart was in his throat at once, this being the closest they had been to each other since that first conversation. A hand caressing his cheek, carding tenderly through his hair, had Will’s eyes fluttering shut. Hannibal’s warm breath spilling across his mouth stole Will’s.

“Do not mistake my restraint for disinterest,” he soothed, and warmth pooled low in Will’s gut at the confirmation that Hannibal had thought of him in that way - _wanted_ him in that way. “My only goal is to care for you. If there is a way in which you feel your needs are not being met, you need only tell me.”

__Will considered that as he waited for Hannibal’s mouth to cover his own - realized after a moment that the man had all but told him that wouldn’t happen until Will asked him for it. He was just working up the nerve to do so, to ask Hannibal to kiss him, touch him, fuck him good and thoroughly senseless right here on his desk, when Hannibal spoke again._ _

__“Is this the reason you’ve increased the frequency of your streams?”_ _

__Will’s eyes snapped open at once, his head jerking back to put some distance between their faces. He glared stubbornly at Hannibal and grit out, “I’m not stopping.”_ _

__He felt a little silly at being surprised that Hannibal had kept up with his page. The man had had no qualms about watching Will before he knew about it - why wouldn’t he have continued now that it had been addressed? Will wondered all at once if his cam shows made the doctor jealous. He had put himself in Hannibal’s care, after all; added yet another layer of personal intimacy to their already tangled relationship. Hannibal himself had declared Will as his own just minutes before. Did the thought of others watching Will break apart bother him?_ _

__“Nor would I ask you to,” Hannibal assured him. “I understand the benefits you draw from your performances. I would never ask you to discontinue an activity that keeps you happy and healthy, darling boy.”_ _

__Will knew he wasn’t lying - that he had no reason to lie. He looked at the man before him and slowly, one by one, let his defenses crumble. He didn’t have any use for a wall between himself and his Daddy._ _

__“Thank you, Daddy,” Will whispered on a breath. His cheeks still flamed when he used the title, even as arousal rippled through him. Hannibal’s small smile was warm and fond - pleased - and Will found that he felt a staggering amount of pride at having been the one to put it there._ _

__He reached out without even thinking about it as soon as Hannibal shifted to step away, entreating hands clenching greedily to the lapels of his jacket to keep him close, urge him closer. Will’s eyes dropped to his hands, staring at them and wondering when his brain had commanded the action. He couldn’t remember setting down his tumbler of whiskey, but he must have at some point._ _

__“Kiss me,” he murmured, before he lost the nerve to release the words. “Please kiss me.”_ _

__Hannibal’s lips were soft and warm, slid over Will’s without hesitation. His breath hitched in his chest at the man’s confidence - in such grand opposition to Will’s own uncertainty; his mouth parted on a surprised breath and Hannibal’s tongue swept inside, tender and skilled and just as devastatingly confident as the rest of him._ _

__Will moaned at the sensation, allowed himself to float in the absurd amount of comfort that Hannibal’s attention afforded him. He pressed closer, his grip tightening on lapels that were quickly becoming rumpled, and for the life of him, Will couldn’t remember ever getting so hard over a _kiss_. A pitiful whining mewl left him when Hannibal pulled back just far enough to end their kiss, while staying close enough to keep Will drowning in his warmth. He could feel the man’s lips curl into a smile against his own at the sound._ _

__“Tomorrow night, you’ll come for dinner,” Hannibal told him, and Will nodded numbly. “You will arrange for care for your dogs if necessary and prepare an overnight bag.”_ _

__A thrill zipped through Will at the words - at the _command_ ; a delicious little shiver of warmth teasing through him, forcing more blood to his groin._ _

__“Yes, Daddy,” he agreed softly._ _

__Hannibal’s hand slid through his hair once more, and then he stepped away and regarded Will with a no-nonsense air. “Now that we’ve put that matter to rest for the time being, may we continue on to your session?”_ _

__Will nodded his agreement this time, not trusting his voice not to break in relief._ _

____

\---

Will sat in his car for nearly twenty minutes, collecting himself and trying to lower his racing pulse to something more reasonable. In all of his years having the stream, he’d never experienced such a thrill. This was _real_ and Hannibal was already so good to him, Will couldn’t imagine how much better it could be to add physical intimacy to their relationship. He could, however, imagine all of the ways it could go wrong. How _he_ could be wrong. Disappointing, just another let down to himself and to his Daddy.

He finally managed to calm down enough to approach the front door, still a handful of minutes early, but Hannibal sometimes liked to have Will help him prepare dinner and he didn’t want to fail such a simple test. 

Will appreciated that Hannibal had let him have his space, knowing the man was probably more than aware of his presence in his driveway. He approached the door with lingering trepidation and knocked.

Things moved quickly from there.

Hannibal opened the door and pulled Will in by his elbow, nearly dislodging Will’s overnight bag from his shoulder as he pressed him to the back of the door. It closed under the combined weight of their bodies when he leaned forward to claim Will’s lips in a possessive kiss, and a proprietary hand found its way to his hip and then lower, to his ass, pulling him into the firm, solid heat of Hannibal’s body. The man moved with such a fluid, easy grace; his entire body molded to Will’s and kept him held firmly where he wanted him. 

“Hannibal-” Will gasped between kisses, his lips feeling bruised and swollen already. 

Hannibal raised an eyebrow as though saying _try again_ and Will quickly corrected himself. “Hello, Daddy,” he gave a small smile down at his shoes, embarrassment flushing his cheeks pink when the voice that surfaced was soft and meek.

“Hello, darling boy,” Hannibal’s voice rumbled into Will’s hair as the man leaned close to scent him, infiltrating his space like he belonged there, like Will belonged to him. His breath was warm and so near to Will’s face that it caused a shiver to ripple down his entire body.

Will whimpered when Hannibal pulled away from him, putting enough distance between them for Will to attempt to collect himself. 

“Would you like to help me prepare dinner, Will?” his name on Hannibal’s lips felt like a caress. It felt painfully _fond_ and contained a familiarity that made Will’s pulse race anew. 

He nodded softly, looking up at Hannibal through his lashes. There wasn’t that much difference in their heights, but Will felt so small like this, his shoulders rounded and lowered to try and make himself even smaller. “Yes, Daddy.”

He followed Hannibal deeper into the house, the man taking his bag and putting it away upstairs somewhere before returning to meet Will in the kitchen. Will thought about that bag, most likely sitting in a guest room that would go unused tonight. His heart beat faster.

Hannibal snapped Will from his thoughts, his voice much closer than it had been moments before. “You may peel and quarter the potatoes. I thought something comforting and familiar would be appreciated, so we’ll be making crevettes et polenta with Gruyere, seared mushrooms and a tomato-bacon relish,” he gestured to the line up on the counter, everything placed and perfectly organized. 

“Shrimp and grits,” Will teased, his eyes scanning the various ingredients. He wondered if he should point out that the only thing decidedly pointing towards shrimp and grits were the shrimp, some already deveined, and waiting to be boiled.

“As you say,” Hannibal conceded, his low voice laced with amusement. 

Will nodded his agreement, shuffling closer to the edge of the counter, only to have Hannibal’s stomach and chest at his back, pushing him into the marble edge, just high enough above his groin that he couldn’t get any friction from the movement. 

“You are being very good for me, Will. And, as I promised, good boys get rewarded,” Hannibal’s voice was like smooth silk as he spoke directly into Will’s pink-tinged ear. He wasn’t even sure he had the ability to be any more embarrassed, but Hannibal kept pushing him to new heights.

“Thank you,” Will mumbled to the countertop, letting his eyes slip closed as Hannibal’s hands wandered his body as though mapping out every inch of him to store away in his memory. He couldn’t hope to stop the small squeak that left him when Hannibal placed a wet kiss to his neck just below his ear, the sensation causing heat to shiver down Will’s spine. He wasn’t sure if he should push back into the man behind him or forward to attempt some kind of pressure on his already aching cock.

Hannibal’s palms ghosted down his arms, captured Will’s hands gently and moved them into position at the cutting board. They retreated then, wrapped broad and strong around Will’s hips, his thumbs stroking along his sides slowly as his mouth continued to place lazy kisses down Will’s throat.

“I - Are you gonna do that the whole time?” Will asked, eyeing the very _sharp_ knife laid out on the cutting board before him.

Hannibal gave a soft hum and buried his nose into the curls behind Will’s ear. “I was under the impression that you desired more physical contact.” One of his hands shifted, fingers sliding over Will’s belly.

“I did. I do. I just...don’t want to cut off my fingers. You are...more than a little distracting.”

Hannibal hummed again, placing one more kiss to the nape of his neck before relenting and moving away. “I suppose the shrimp won’t devein themselves,” he mused out loud, settling to work next to Will.

Will could feel the heat of Hannibal beside him, could still feel the phantom warmth of him where he’d been pressed to his back. He waited for Hannibal to continue with the shrimp before willing his hands not to tremble as he picked up the first potato and began to peel. They worked in a silence that was mostly comfortable, though Will couldn’t stop his mind from turning back to what would be happening after dinner.

He’d had his own fingers up _there_ , as well as an array of vibrators and modestly sized dildos, so he wasn’t exactly worried that he wouldn’t like having sex with a man. It was everything else that he fretted over. What if Hannibal wanted Will to suck his dick? He was more than amenable to the idea - in fact, found the thought of it quite erotic - but apart from the blowjobs from women he’d received over the years, he didn’t have any basis for comparison. What if he was shit at it? What if he was so unskilled that Hannibal decided he wasn’t worth the effort to teach?

His traitorous brain chose that moment to dredge up the memory of a party he’d attended in college - the same one, in fact, where he kissed his first boy and engaged in some drunken petting that escalated to a failed handjob - where a bunch of guys were standing around in the kitchen, howling with laughter as one of them relayed the tale of a booty call gone wrong that ended when his overly ambitious lover had attempted to deep throat him and, having activated her gag reflex one too many times, threw up all over his lap.

So that was another thing to worry about, he supposed. When Hannibal offered him a glass of wine as they prepped, Will politely declined.

Hannibal, in direct opposition to Will, as he so often was, was the epitome of placidness. His focus seemed to be a hundred percent on the task at hand. He deveined the remaining shrimp with the ease of a professional chef and began roasting the brussels sprouts and started the grits, all while sipping wine and looking as relaxed as a man with no care in the world at all. Even without the distraction of Hannibal pressed against him, Will had barely made it through breaking down the potatoes without nicking himself.

When the meal was in its final stages, Hannibal turned a soft look upon Will. It was amazing; in all the months Will had known Hannibal, he had never seen the man as expressive as he had been in the last few weeks with Will. He still retained his detached stoicism, donned that person suit that hid away what he really was when anyone else was around, but when no one else was paying attention, he allowed Will to see beneath it. His eyes slid shut as soon as Hannibal’s hand rose to cradle his jaw. When he pressed a soft kiss to Will’s forehead, the tension that had been coiling tighter and tighter within his chest snapped and released at once.

“I can hear you thinking, sweet boy,” Hannibal murmured against his hair. He drifted closer still, his other hand wrapping around Will to stroke down his spine. “We’ve about twenty more minutes on brussels sprouts. I’d like to use that time for an exercise in relaxation.”

Will nodded and allowed himself to be led to the plush chair in the corner of the kitchen - he had watched Hannibal from that chair before, when he wasn’t acting as sous chef - but it was Hannibal who took a seat this time, while Will was left standing. 

He shifted awkwardly from foot to foot, the compulsion to fall to his knees in front of the man pulling at his insides, making him desperate to be good, to give this man everything he could. 

Hannibal reached out a hand, pulling Will close enough that their knees brushed. “Do what you want, darling,” Hannibal stated and Will let out a relieved breath. Sometimes, the near mind-reading Hannibal seemed to possess was a welcome perk. Of course Will wouldn’t have to explain himself to Hannibal; he would simply understand. 

Will shuffled around the chair and grabbed a pillow from the sitting room before returning and settling comfortably on his knees in front of Hannibal, resting his cheek on the man’s tailored dress slacks. He’d only been there mere moments before Hannibal was shifting above him, a firm hand in Will’s hair, pulling gently so that Will was forced to make eye contact. 

“I had hoped to attempt a relaxation exercise, but it seems you have found some calm already in the act of kneeling,” Hannibal observed, running his fingers through some of the knotted curls at Will’s nape. 

Will made a sound of discontent, hiding his face in the crease of Hannibal’s thigh, his ears burning red again in shame. He shouldn’t want it so much, it probably made him seem needy to such a man. 

“Quiet your thoughts, sweet boy, there is nothing to be ashamed of in the act of kneeling,” he grew quiet for a moment, contemplating something. “Have you ever heard of cockwarming, Will?” his hand drifted down Will’s cheek, cupping just below his chin. 

Will shook his head, he hadn’t heard of it before, though he could make a guess at what it was, especially since Hannibal was already unbuttoning his slacks, pushing the band of his underwear down and pulling his cock out, still soft though slightly wet at the tip. Will found himself compelled forward to lick at the clear bead of fluid that leaked from Hannibal’s loose foreskin, his skin salty and warm against Will’s lips and tongue. 

He heard the man hiss in approval above him, guiding his head so that Will’s lips wrapped around him. “Don’t suck. The purpose is to help center you, provide you with a usefulness that will hopefully quiet the anxiety clawing at the back of your mind.” Hannibal soothed his hand down Will’s shoulder, along his spine, as Will slipped his eyes closed and allowed himself to grow comfortable once again, his brain going a bit fuzzy around the edges. 

He lost himself in the dreamlike quality of the situation, Hannibal with his legs spread comfortably in the chair above Will, his hand running all along Will’s upper back and his hair, the man totally silent while Will made soft, wet sounds as spit collected in his mouth and slipped from his lips where they rested so loose and pliant around Hannibal’s still mostly flaccid cock. 

He marveled at Hannibal’s control over his body, at the amount of restraint Hannibal would need to possess in order to keep himself mostly soft while Will held him in his mouth, occasionally softly suckling against his flesh without thinking, the entire experience wet and messy, and wonderful. 

“Such a good boy,” Hannibal murmured and Will whimpered around his length, feeling it twitch against his tongue. 

A few more minutes stretched by, thick like molasses, each one containing an eon of time to Will’s sluggish mind. Before he could slip too far from the surface, Hannibal stirred above him and used his grip on Will’s jaw to pull him off, lifting his face to make eye contact. 

“You’ve been very good, Will. It’s time for dinner; let’s come back up now,” and even though Will felt as though he could stay here forever, could fall asleep here and exist solely in this space and time, the suggestion sounded so reasonable, so tempting, coming from his Daddy that he was forced to comply.

He nodded softly, his eyes glossy and wet as he blinked up slowly at Hannibal. “Yes, Daddy,” he mouthed into Hannibal’s knee, rubbing his face against the man’s thigh for a moment before taking a few deep breaths and letting the spider silk webs that seemed to cover his brain clear away a bit, flying away like the sky clearing after a cloudy day. 

“There’s my darling,” Hannibal smiled fondly at him, helping him stand on shaky knees, and keeping him steady as he pulled him close and let Will turn his nose into Hannibal’s neck, lips mouthing absently at the exposed skin there. 

He breathed deep the familiar scent of Hannibal; a musky, spicy cologne, the fresh herbs of his kitchen. He accepted the soft, chaste kiss Hannibal pressed to his lips and then followed his direction when instructed to take his seat in the dining room, assured that Hannibal would finish up on his own.

“Garlic braised shrimp on a bed of stone ground, herbed polenta, rosemary and thyme whipped potatoes and a side of balsamic glazed roasted brussels sprouts,” Hannibal moved effortlessly back into the room and Will watched with a small smile as so many comforting staples of his childhood were laid out before him. 

When all was said and done, dinner was a fairly typical affair; no different than any of the countless times they’d dined together, though, as Will had found, it tasted especially delicious knowing his own effort - minimal as it was - had been poured into the final product. Conversation followed the same flow and tone that it usually did, and every time Will felt anxiety and anticipation creeping into the edges of his mind he forced himself to recall that weightless, floating sensation that had flooded him as he relaxed, kneeling at Hannibal’s feet.

Will was restless by the time Hannibal ushered him into the study for a night cap; half hard by the time he took his last sip of port. And then Hannibal was against him, a hot, solid line pressed against Will’s body as the man slid his hands soothingly along his torso and nuzzled against his neck.

“Come upstairs with me, darling boy,” Hannibal urged softly, and Will could only nod along and follow.

As soon as the door shut behind them, Hannibal was against him again, drowning him in attention. He stroked through Will’s hair and down his back, covered his face and neck in soft kisses as his hands worked at Will’s clothing.

“I…” Will began breathlessly, and then remembered that he’d already told Hannibal he had no actual experience with another man and forced himself back into that floaty space once again. Hannibal would take care of him, he reasoned. Hannibal knew what to do.

His Daddy told him as much; murmuring soft assurances into Will’s skin each time he bared a new area, praising Will’s trust and faith in him.

“You can let go, sweet boy,” Hannibal told him as he mouthed at the shell of Will’s ear. “I won’t let you fall.”

He couldn’t recall what had happened to the clothes stripped from him, nor from Hannibal. He couldn’t quite say when they had ended up on the massive bed in the center of Hannibal’s room. Will only became aware of his new state as he was pressed into impossibly soft sheets, Hannibal’s mouth and hands roaming and worshipping every inch of his nude body.

The fingers at his rim could easily have been his own, but as soon as they pushed forward Will moaned and sobbed and swore that he’d never felt as complete when his own fingers had delved inside.

Hannibal readied him with great care, pumping his fingers in and out slowly, massaging him inside and out to encourage his muscles to cease their instinctive clenching and relax. He took to tonguing teasingly at Will’s nipples as he did so, purposefully steering just shy of Will’s prostate every time he pressed deep. Will moaned and shuddered beneath him as a third finger was added, eyes clenched tightly shut and mind focused on drawing in deep, even breaths even as he felt liable to hyperventilate. 

When the older man’s fingers finally crooked and rubbed against his prostate, Will gave a shout and bucked his hips, desperate to repeat the sensation. A smile and a kiss were pressed to Will’s neck, and then Hannibal’s lips were at Will’s ear.

“Do you like that, darling?”

Will could only nod frantically, the entirety of his concentration focused on finding the right tilt of his hips to encourage Hannibal to touch him there again. After several more teasing strokes, Will finally cracked.

“Fuck - _Please,_ Hannibal -” he moaned and arched his body up into the solid weight of the man above him. He unclenched his hands from the sheets around him and tugged pitifully at the older man, urging their lips together again. “I need to feel you. Please -”

He might have whined when Hannibal pulled out of and away from him, if he hadn’t known that he was about to get exactly what he wanted. He couldn’t help but tense up reflexively at the awareness of Hannibal’s cock pressing against his entrance. He forced himself to concentrate on his breathing and the soft, soothing tone of Hannibal’s words in his ear as he pressed forward to invade Will. 

It was nothing like sliding a dildo in on one of his streams. It was so much better. Hannibal’s cock was hot, not _much_ thicker than any of the toys he’d previously used but enough to notice, and he could feel it twitch inside him. Beyond that, he was so completely _surrounded_ by another person - by Hannibal - that it afforded an entirely different experience.

He drowned in the man’s scent, luxuriated in the heat that radiated from his skin; when Hannibal shifted and his furred chest dragged across Will’s own, the sensation set every nerve ending alight with a tingling buzz. His limbs were wrapped around Hannibal before the man had even settled all the way inside, urging him closer, faster.

Hannibal nuzzled against his cheek and suckled softly on his earlobe as he stilled inside Will, fully sheathed. “How’s that, sweet boy?”

“So good,” Will gasped; his hips made an instinctive attempt to roll and grind before he realized that he was well and truly pinned by the weight atop him. “So full.”

“Do you like being full of your Daddy like this?”

Will keened at the question - at that _word_. He wouldn’t have thought it possible for even more arousal to flood through him, but his stomach gave a lovely, hot clench as the rest of him shuddered for it.

“ _Yes,_ fuck, yeah Daddy, please - please fuck me.”

Hannibal didn’t reply with words, he leaned down to capture Will’s lips with soft, quick kisses, feather light and pulling a deep blush to Will’s cheeks. He’d never felt so worshipped, so absolutely adored and _owned_. He found it comforting to realize that he would gladly allow Hannibal anything. He didn’t have to think, didn’t have to concern himself with the details. His Daddy would provide what he needed. 

“You are beautiful like this, sweet Will. An absolute vision spread out on silk sheets, wanton in your need and desire. A Botticelli angel, obscenely wrought in pleasure,” Hannibal trailed kisses down Will’s lightly stubbled jaw and along the exposed expanse of his throat, nipping gently at his pulse point as he pulled nearly all the way out and then thrust in again, hollowing out a place for himself inside of Will that he hadn’t even realized had felt so empty before. 

“Harder, Hannibal, please,” Will was nearly delirious with the compulsion to feel Hannibal everywhere, to have him inside of him forever, coupled with his own need to come. He found, with no small amount of surprise, that his own orgasm felt secondary to bringing the man above him pleasure. He _needed_ Hannibal to use him, to find _use_ in him. He didn’t want to disappoint him. 

He must have been whimpering aloud some of the pitiful snippets of pleas that floated through his head, because suddenly Hannibal was hooking Will’s legs up around his hips and sliding _even deeper_ all while shushing Will gently. “Quiet, sweetheart, Daddy will give you everything you need.” 

And Will _believed him_. He trusted this dangerous, deadly, wonderful man to guide him through and not let him fall. Take him to the very edge of the cliff but allow no harm to come to him. 

He was mumbling incoherently, but he felt overwhelmed. He felt like he’d just taken a surprise step forward in their relationship. Up until now, Hannibal’s connections to the Ripper had been nothing more than checkmarks on a long list of attributes in a profile write up. But, as Will looked up into Hannibal’s eyes, even if their previous conversation hadn’t been so illuminating, Will felt like he would _know_. 

A monster prowled right behind those whiskey-soaked eyes, a predator’s eyes looking back at Will. He could see the restraint in Hannibal’s tensed muscles, in his controlled thrusts, in the lack of blood smeared across a mouth that seemed made for carnage. 

And just as suddenly as Will realized Hannibal was holding back for him, he realized that he didn’t _want_ him to. He wanted Hannibal’s violence just as much as he craved his softness, wanted gentle touches as much as he wanted a harsh hand around his throat and teeth in his neck. 

He blinked back tears that threatened to spill, salty and warm, from the corners of his eyes. When his gaze returned to Hannibal, his form was blurred and in a moment of clarity, Will saw the ink black skin and midnight eyes of the creature from his dreams blended perfectly with Hannibal’s own human visage. A finely crafted person suit that contained a beast within. 

“Hannibal -” Will began, but Hannibal leaned down to bite at Will’s lips, stingingly sharp after the softness of their time spent together over all these months. Will wondered how difficult it had been all this time for Hannibal to contain his darker desires. How the hedonistic man had managed to suppress those urges. 

“I know,” Hannibal confirmed, and not for the first time Will wondered whether the man could read minds as easily as Will could read people. He always seemed to know exactly what Will needed and when. 

“Please, fuck me, Daddy. Want you to use me up,” Will whined, shifting underneath Hannibal enough that it brought a growl to Hannibal’s throat as his monster took over, primal and claiming and unwilling to let its prey go. 

Hannibal snarled, his lip curling up enough to expose the bright white flash of his teeth, and then he flipped Will onto his stomach, belly pressed flat to the bed and legs spread wide as Hannibal settled between them again, pushing back into Will with far less finesse, and no lingering gentleness. 

A firm hand settled in the middle of Will’s back, arching his spine down and his ass higher, and Hannibal’s cock brushed Will’s prostate on nearly every inward thrust, sending jolts of pleasure through his entire body as he simply _took_ what Hannibal gave him. 

Will was forced to turn his head to the side if he wanted to take in a proper breath, but he wasn’t entirely concerned about that at the moment, so he let his forehead dig into the mattress below him and panted into the sheets even as his hands grabbed and twisted at them. The new position had the added benefit of allowing Hannibal impossibly _deeper_ into him, while also providing pressure and friction for his achingly hard cock - something Will hadn’t even considered until he had been turned over.

He didn’t bother trying to mask the sounds being pulled from him - he didn’t think Hannibal would want him to. Instead, he let every whimper and moan, every incoherent babbling for Hannibal to go _harder, faster_ fall from his lips. 

Hannibal’s fingers pressed bruises where they dug into the flesh of Will’s hips, the heavy weight of him settling over him, pushing him down further yet into the bed. The brutal pace he maintained as he slammed into Will had the sounds of their flesh slapping together almost louder than even Will’s wails. Will clawed at the bedding beneath him, wishing that it was Hannibal, imagining scratching him up as the monster fucked him so good. The thought of leaving his mark on his Daddy sent Will careening, encouraged him to work his hips into the sheets beneath him all the more urgently.

This was no time for Hannibal’s pretty words - that part of their joining was over. Instead, Will got his rasping breaths and low grunts. When Hannibal locked his teeth into the flesh at the crook of Will’s neck, he came hard into the bedding beneath him, howling and sobbing. Hannibal snarled as Will clenched around him, sank his teeth into him all the harder and climaxed inside him with a few more forceful thrusts.

Neither of them attempted to move for several long moments as pleasure sizzled beneath their skin and they fought to contain their pounding hearts and heaving lungs. Hannibal remained a solid presence atop Will, lingering inside him until his softening cock slipped from Will’s greedy clutches. He pulled back just enough then to gather the release that leaked from Will’s hole with his thumb and push it back up inside him.

Will hissed as the digit slipped past his sore rim, revelled in the seed that covered and marked him. Hannibal’s lips found his flesh again, mouthing at the place where his teeth had sank moments before; Will didn’t think that the skin had been broken with the bite, but he would surely bear a telling bruise that he would have no hope of covering. He revelled in that as well.

Eventually, Hannibal slid his arms beneath Will’s body and twisted them to their sides; he pressed close to Will’s back and curled his limbs around him, but Will wiggled out of his grasp and turned onto his other side to face the man. He shifted closer to Hannibal’s chest and let their legs tangle together. He blinked up at Hannibal, his throat going tight immediately at the man’s face; a warm fondness that Will had grown accustomed to over the last several weeks overshadowed by a dark and possessive hunger that burned within his eyes.

“Thank you, Daddy,” Will whispered; his voice was hoarse, felt underused, despite all of the babbling and shouting he’d been doing just minutes prior. Hannibal responded with a soft hum as his fingers began to smooth away the sweat-soaked curls from Will’s forehead.

“I want to have every part of you; the parts that no one else gets to see. I want your gentle words and tender kisses just as much as I want your sharp claws and bruising bites. I want the monster that lurks beneath, waiting. I never want you to hold back again. I want to own you completely, as you own me,” Will demanded, voice steady.

Hannibal hooked a finger beneath Will’s chin to tilt their mouths together. “You do,” he assured Will, his own voice just as raspy, his accent thick with desire. “You, perhaps, always have.”

Will hummed his approval, and rested his head on Hannibal’s chest. They remained silent and comfortable for several long moments before Will cleared his throat and turned his head to meet Hannibal’s eyes again. 

“I want to see you,” He paused, biting his lip in a way Hannibal was sure wasn’t intended to be coquettish, but was appealing all the same. “The honest you. The creature beneath the man you pretend to be. I want to bear witness to your violence, to your transcendence.” 

Hannibal’s eyes glowed dangerously, his monster clawing its way to the surface and peering out at Will, the man it had chosen as its equal. Its mate. “Did you have someone in mind, darling?” 

Hannibal still hadn’t admitted directly to his involvement, possibly wouldn’t allow himself to speak openly until he stood with Will, both of their hands warm and red with blood as they transformed some pitiful swine into an artful tapestry. Into something _more_ than they could ever have hoped to become on their own. 

“Yeah,” Will smiled viciously, showing gleaming white teeth, stark against his kiss-bruised lips. “I do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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> 'Til next time! 💚💜 BellaRai


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Daddy,” he whimpered, trying to turn to meet Hannibal’s gaze._
> 
> _“No, darling,” Hannibal murmured into his neck before sucking a soft kiss into his flesh. “Stay just like this.”_
> 
> _Hannibal’s hands slipped around to Will’s front, one splayed across his chest to pull him back into his solid warmth, the other snaking down to palm at Will’s own hardness between his legs. He hadn’t even realized -_
> 
> _“Just like this,” Hannibal murmured again against the shell of his ear before running his tongue along it. “Let me touch you while you look at what you’ve done.”_

Will had never felt as alive, as true to himself, as he did when he and Hannibal hunted together. The first time with Ingram had been messy, it had been primal and full of an empathetic rage that Will had allowed to take him over. It had been laughably easy to track the man down, to steal him away along with his passport and enough personal items to stage an apparent fleeing of the country. They had dropped him off at the edge of the woods and then followed him through the trees, tracking their prey like a true hunt.

Finding him the second and final time hadn’t been any more difficult than taking him had; he hadn’t taken to heart their warning that no one but them would hear his cries for help.

Will had lost time for part of the process after they descended upon Ingram, blinking back into existence with Hannibal whispering into his ear that it was done. He’d looked down at his body and the distance he’d always felt was suddenly erased; he felt wholly and truly himself, covered up to his elbows in blood and with his hands still deeply sunken inside of the disgusting man that lay beneath him. The body already cooling in death and his eyes were lanced with burst spider-web fine veins from when Will had had his hands wrapped around his neck. Before simply choking him hadn’t been enough and he’d needed to be _inside_. 

The blood was so dark it looked black against his skin, against the moonlight soaked ground around them. Like ink or tar rather than the life giving substance that had pumped rabbit fast through Ingram’s body only moments before. 

His death meant nothing, Will realized in the still air of the night. Will didn’t feel vengeful. Didn’t feel like a wrathful god meting out justice to the wicked for their crimes. The man's death did nothing to absolve Peter of the crimes he’d already been falsely convicted of. 

But still, Will felt _alive_. More and more so as the life beneath him continued to slip away, to seep into the cold earth under his knees. 

Hannibal was on him suddenly, his chest and stomach pressed to Will’s back where they knelt, and Will could feel the man’s arousal, insistent in the small of his back, almost lewd. They were both covered in blood and organ matter, and Will decided he didn’t care. 

“Daddy,” he whimpered, trying to turn to meet Hannibal’s gaze. 

“No, darling,” Hannibal murmured into his neck before sucking a soft kiss into his flesh. “Stay just like this.” 

Hannibal’s hands slipped around to Will’s front, one splayed across his chest to pull him back into his solid warmth, the other snaking down to palm at Will’s own hardness between his legs. He hadn’t even realized -

“Just like this,” Hannibal murmured again against the shell of his ear before running his tongue along it. “Let me touch you while you look at what you’ve done.”

“Oh, God -” Will whimpered, dropping his head back to rest upon Hannibal’s shoulder. His hips were in motion before he even realized what he was doing, grinding up into the hand that worked him through his jeans.

“What a beautiful, vicious thing you’ve turned out to be. So hungry for the kill, for blood.” Hannibal praised lowly, began rocking his own hips to seek friction against the younger man. “For me.” He gave the considerable arousal tenting Will’s pants a firm squeeze, pulling another whimper from his boy. “You’ve made your Daddy very proud, sweet boy. Lovely Will.”

Will was panting at this point, writhing desperately into the contact of Hannibal’s hand and his solid cock rutting against his ass. “Want more,” Will moaned. 

Hannibal wasn’t certain if Will was seeking more contact with him or more blood to shed. He decided that it was both and rumbled his approval with a low growl at Will’s ear. 

“I shall give you _everything_ , my marvellous boy,” Hannibal promised him, increasing the pace of his hand on Will’s groin. “We will hunt down those that offend you and bathe in their blood, twist their hideous, abhorrent souls into something transcendent and pure. We will feast on their flesh as gods among men and every night I will spread you out beneath me and lay worship to the one being that knows me, _sees_ me.”

“Oh God, Oh _fuck_ Daddy -” Will whined and stiffened, his body going rigid as his cock pulsed his release into his pants. He sighed and sagged back against Hannibal, soft babbling spilling from his lips. Hannibal caught words akin to _good_ and _thank you_ ; he urged Will’s head to tip back farther so that he could bring their lips together.

When his boy had seemingly caught his breath, he turned in Hannibal’s arms, pressing close to nuzzle into Hannibal’s neck with a contented sigh. He ran his hands over Hannibal’s broad chest, down his sides, moved to palm at Hannibal’s own hardness for a moment before his fingers set to undoing his fly.

“Let me,” Will murmured softly into his neck between brief, lazy kisses. “Let me take care of you, Daddy.”

Hannibal considered denying him until he could get him home, spread him out as he’d just promised to always do, a worshipful supplicant and demanding god all in one. But he found himself simply unable to resist the desperation in Will’s eyes, in his scent. It smelled sharp, like spruce wood and fresh matches. Dangerous and all-consuming. 

“Go ahead, darling boy,” Hannibal leaned back, blood seeping into the knees of his pants as he spread his thighs to accommodate Will. There was blood everywhere, his boy had been beautifully unencumbered in his viciousness, his beast demanding a blood sacrifice that he took with an almost preternatural calm for the level of violence he enacted on his chosen victim. 

Hannibal watched as Will trembled before him, his body a live-wire of need, adrenaline still coursing through his veins, pushing him to _more_ and _now_. His arms were covered in blood, his clothes ruined as he’d refused to wear one of the protective coverings Hannibal had offered, had demanded to _feel_ every moment, every inch of skin against skin. He had blood splattered across his cheekbones, his hair was damp with blood and sweat, his curls plastered to his forehead and temples. He’d never looked more beautiful. 

Will shuffled forward on his knees, closing the remaining distance as he managed to get Hannibal’s cock free from the confines of his clothing, his mouth immediately warm and wet around him as he sank down nearly to the base. Hannibal could feel his nose brush against his pubic bone and he moaned when Will gagged violently in his enthusiasm. 

“Slow down, _mano mielasis_ , there is no rush,” Hannibal wound the fingers of his right hand into Will’s soaked hair, pulling him off his cock long enough for a bruising kiss that tasted of salt and iron, Will still with blood on his teeth from his kill. 

Will pulled free soon enough and went back to his task, taking Hannibal with a bit more finesse this time, tonguing along the head and then licking a wet trail down his shaft, swirling around his balls before coming back up again and wrapping his lips tightly around him, sucking several harsh sucks at the tip before guiding himself down to the base again. 

Hannibal groaned, his thighs tense with desire, his entire body felt raw and open in a way he’d never allowed himself to be with another. None had been worthy before Will. “That’s it, darling boy. So good for me,” Hannibal rasped, letting his fingers slide through Will’s tangled curls once more.

Will let out a pleased hum at the praise, adding his hand to tease the base of Hannibal’s shaft as he focused his attention on the cockhead once more. Will’s dark eyes glanced up to him, then; wide, wild and ravenous. A crippling need slammed through Hannibal and he came with a groan, spilling down his marvellous boy’s throat as Will drank down Hannibal’s release with another sound of rapturous approval.

He was licking into Hannibal’s mouth once again almost as soon as he released his cock, adding the taste of Hannibal’s release to their blood-tinged kisses. They parted several long moments later, forced to rely on air to fuel their lungs regardless of how inhuman they felt. Will trembled in Hannibal’s arms and turned his eyes upon the mess they had made of Clark Ingram. The body could be moved away and disposed of easily enough, but they would require a substantial amount of dirt to cover the blood-soaked earth.

“I felt like a lost time again, just for a minute,” Will mumbled as he glanced down to hands stained with blood and dirt. He did and didn’t have a vague memory of tearing into the man’s stomach like an animal as Ingram had screamed and writhed against Hannibal’s iron grip. He didn’t feel as though he should know the weight of a human heart in his palm, nor how it felt to squeeze the tough muscle until its chambers collapsed, but he did.

“The combined adrenaline and euphoria could produce such an effect, make you feel hazy or intoxicated. Nothing to concern yourself with, dear boy.”

But it _did_ concern Will, because it was a memory that he’d wanted to keep. One of few in his life, though since meeting Hannibal that number had been rapidly growing. He would never have this night, clear and pristine in the halls of his memory palace the way that Hannibal would. Instead, it would elude him, the barest formed concept slipping across the edges of his mind like the contents of a dream diluted and, eventually, extinguished by wakefulness. And that didn’t sit right with Will at all.

“Tell me there’ll be another one,” Will entreated softly. Hannibal’s hand cradling his jaw, still so warm despite the chilly evening air of the woods, brought Will’s gaze back to him. Will’s stomach clenched at the fond smile that twisted Hannibal’s lips, the unrestrained _pride_ that glinted in his eyes.

“Sweet Will,” Hannibal murmured, leaned forward to press a kiss to Will’s forehead. “There will be as many as you desire.”

He wasn’t surprised by the answer; his Daddy always seemed to know exactly what Will needed, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> If you enjoy our collaborative works you should follow us on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/BellaRaiWrites) and [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/bellaraiwrites) for all sorts of extra content and teasers!
> 
> We also have a [Discord server](https://discord.gg/jhdDeAn) where you can chat with us, throw us prompts, and post images/art inspired by our work! You may also catch a snippet or two of some WIPs!
> 
> 'Til next time! 💚💜 BellaRai

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> If you enjoy our collaborative works you should follow us on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/BellaRaiWrites) and [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/bellaraiwrites) for all sorts of extra content and teasers!
> 
> We also have a [Discord server](https://discord.gg/jhdDeAn) where you can chat with us, throw us prompts, and post images/art inspired by our work! You may also catch a snippet or two of some WIPs!
> 
> 'Til next time! 💚💜 BellaRai


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